


Make Dreams Your Master

by Drag0nst0rm



Series: As Old and as True as the Sky [8]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, And the Unseelie have interesting views on house guests, Case Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, The Seelie don't just let you go, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 01:32:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11726727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nst0rm/pseuds/Drag0nst0rm
Summary: There's a slight possibility they might be in over their heads.(You think, DiNozzo?)





	Make Dreams Your Master

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own NCIS; quotes and title from Kipling's "If - "
> 
> Which I also don't own.
> 
> This is a spin-off of "S.W.A.K." And by spin-off, I mean I was thinking about that episode when I started writing, then decided to set it after Kate died so I could keep the death song thing consistent and then decided the plague probably wouldn't affect half-fey and decided to veer off. Also, the motive and person responsible are entirely different.
> 
> But it is Tony whump.

_“If you can dream - and not make dreams your master.” - Rudyard Kipling_

 

“Mom.”

She was only about a foot away from the shore at the moment. The water was only lapping over her feet. She didn’t bother to look back at him, though. Her eyes were locked on deeper waters. “He’s calling. I have to go.”

“No, you don’t.” Tony strode across the sand towards her, his polished dress shoes sinking into the sand. “I’m not ten years old any more, Mom. I’m not going to let you do this.”

His mother didn’t respond. She just kept walking into the sea’s embrace.

 

_Tony took one look at the house they’d pulled up at and said, “This is a bad idea.”_

_“You try telling Gibbs that,” McGee grumbled as he got out of the passenger seat. “I swear, if these leads get any slimmer - “_

_“Not the lead, McGrumble, the house.” His eyes darted over the ring of mushrooms in the otherwise meticulously laid out garden and landed on the pretty fruit trees he could just glimpse in the back. Bells were ringing softly, but he couldn’t see any. “A fey lives here.”_

_McGee frowned. He looked at the house, but he didn’t see what Tony recognized all too well. “Are you sure? How can you tell?”_

_“I don’t argue when you say something’s been done with wizardry." Well, not often. "I’m sure.”_

_McGee shrugged. “Okay. You want to do the talking then?”_

_Tony stared at him incredulously. “Do I want - No, I don’t want to do any talking, I want to get out of here!”_

_McGee frowned. “What’ll we tell Gibbs?”_

_That was the one sticking point. He didn’t want to even imagine Gibbs’ reaction would be to this._

_A vision of a disappointed Gibbs warred with the image of being the main course at an Unseelie feast. Of course, if that happened, Gibbs would still be disappointed, down two pack members and possibly in the crosshairs, so - “We’ll figure it out on the way,” he said tensely. “Some other agents can come back later.”_

_McGee’s frown deepened. “Why can’t we do it? You’re part fey, you know what you’re doing.”_

_Tony took a deep breath and hissed, “Because there are different courts of fey, and this, this is not the court my people come from!” For that matter, even if this_ was _the court his people came from, he wouldn’t be much better off. He doubted they’d be delighted to see the half-breed son of a deserter._

_The first rule for surviving the fey, his mother told him long ago, was to run. Run fast, run hard, plug your ears, and don’t look back._

_McGee’s mouth opened in an understanding “o” shape just as the front door whispered open. A tiny woman with soft green hair splattered with silver stood beside it. “Oh, don’t worry about that, dears, we’re all renegades here. Come in, come in.”_

_Sharp hearing. Tony had forgotten that. His father’s ability to hear whispers across a room and use them in a con had never left him, but he’d forgotten how his mother could hear the waves long before they neared the shore._

_If they’d been on the road, he’d have given a charming refusal and dragged McGee back into the car._

_But they were on her driveway. Her property._

_Refusing hospitality now was a bad idea._

_So Tony smiled and said, “We’d be glad to.”_

 

His mother was nearly out of the shallows by the time he reached the water’s edge. He set his mouth grimly and marched in.

The icy water sank through his slacks and reached his legs. The muscles jumped.

He tried to shove the wolf backwards as he continued to run after his mother.

“Oberon’s calling.” He’d forgotten how musical her voice was. Normally, it was enchanting.

Now it sounded like the band had started trying to play six different songs at once.

“Mom,” he pleaded. “Come back.”

His mother was in up to her shoulders now. She kept walking and walking.

The water reached her chin.

 

_It was too late to whisper instructions into McGee’s ear. She’d hear them and might take offense._

_So Tony led the way with a blinding smile. “We’re special agents with NCIS. We’re here about the death of Commander Prewitt.”_

_She tutted and stepped back to let them in. “Nasty business. An ugly end for a young man with such a nice name. And what might your names be, young men?”_

_His mother hadn’t known what her last name would be until her wedding day. That his father had ever told her the whole of it was a show of trust Tony still had trouble believing._

_“You can call me Tony,” he said, still with that easy smile. “And after all the whining I had to put up with on the ride here, you can call him McGrumble.”_

_A misstep. Stupid. Nicknames were good, but he was too used to taunting McGee with them. He should have chosen something that didn’t imply ingratitude. The fey hated ingratitude._

_But the little green woman just smiled and led them into the kitchen. “Nasty business, nasty business. Painful to watch.”_

_“You saw something?” McGee said sharply._

_“Oh, yes. I see most things around here, my dear. I used to see more before dear Queen Mab banished me from the ponds I used to scry in.”_

_“Must be irritating not having anyone to talk to about it,” Tony said with calculated lightness._

_“I used to have scribes to catch my every word,” she said wistfully. “That was nearly a decade ago, of course.”_

_Too long. Any fey that was a renegade that long was mad or nearly so._

_“Come, come! Have a seat in the kitchen, my dears. It’s been too long since I’ve had proper guests.”_

 

His mother’s head slid under the water.

Tony gave up running and dove to swim after her.

The water tugged at his suit. For a fraction of a moment, that was all it did, and then the cold hit, and the wolf inside him started howling in agony.

But he could see his mother’s slender form just ahead.

_Mom._

For just a moment, he thought he heard someone call his name from the shore.

He ignored it.

 

_“Tea, dears? Fruit?”_

_“I’m afraid we can’t eat on the job,” McGee said apologetically._

_“But we’re not on the job, McGrumble,” Tony said. The smile was starting to hurt. “We’re here as guests. Some fruit would be delightful.”_

_If they were here on the job, they were intruders. Invaders. If they ate food, they were here as guests, and protected under the laws of hospitality._

_There was only one problem with that. Humans couldn’t eat fey food._

_Well, they could. Of course they could. It was just that humans could eat fey food in the same sense that Tony could start doing the polar bear plunge as a New Year’s tradition or an Unseelie fey could tell Queen Mab that it was really time that they considered the benefits of a democracy._

_People could do most anything. It was just that some things you could really only do once._

_The little green woman - and Tony knew her name, he just didn’t believe it any more than she believed “McGrumble,” and he didn't want to use it till he figured out what the alias meant - turned and started plating the fruit. She hummed as she worked._

_McGee’s eyes went wide when he saw it. Tony didn’t blame him. The fruit looked mouth watering and deceptively innocuous._

_Pomegranates. Apples. Jinmenju._

_Okay, considering that last one looked like tiny human heads, maybe not that one._

_“What - “ McGee squeaked._

_“Jinmenju,” Tony said quickly. “Surely you’ve heard of them, McGeek. They normally only grow in Japan.” He turned back to their - host. “I’m impressed.”_

_She smiled and handed over the platter. “Just a moment and I’ll go get some water to wash that down with.” She turned to get glasses._

_Tony pointed at the plate and frantically shook his head at McGee before miming zipping his lips. Tim nodded quickly._

_Good. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about McGee thanking her._

_She brought back two glasses of water. “Eat, eat,” she encouraged._

_Not the pomegranates. Too risky. The apples, though . . ._

_It was a risk. His constitution was only half-fey, and he didn’t even know what variety these were._

_But he saw that mad light in her eyes and thought this might be his best chance. “Tell you what,” he said, leaning back, “let’s play a game. Just like they do back in the old country.”_

_She perked up. “Oh?”_

_“I’ll eat,” he said, “and for every piece I manage to swallow, you’ll answer one question of McGrumble’s.”_

_It was a risk. He might only get one bite of apple down. He might have gone too far by risking the bond of host and guest by turning the sacred rite into a game. He might have revealed too much by confirming what she must have already guessed, that he didn't trust her offering._

_But Miss Jenny - and he got the joke of her alias now, now that he saw her green, green teeth - said, “So mote it be.”_

 

He heard a splash behind him. He ignored it just like he ignored his burning, twisting muscles, and kept swimming. He was almost there, almost to his mother, and this time he was going to do it, he was going to save her - 

He grabbed her arm and started tugging her towards the surface.

His mother’s arms twisted until they were entwined around him. “He’s calling,” she hissed even though they were still underwater. “Oberon’s calling.”

He shook his head. _He can’t have you._

But suddenly his mother was heavy as lead, and her arms turned restraining. “Oberon’s calling.” Her nails bit into his chest. “Calling for _you.”_

 

_It was a good thing he’d never cared one way or another about apples because the first bite confirmed he’d never be able to eat mundane ones again. No ordinary apples could be this crisp, this sweet, this perfect._

_“What do you know about Commander Prewitt’s death?”_

_Not specific enough. She could go on with irrelevant details for hours._

_“Did you see him die?”_

_Better._

_“What killed him?”_

_Bad question for the fey, McGeek. They’ll always say something like ‘rudeness.’_

_“What was the murder weapon?”_

_There you go._

_And all the while, bite after bite. Sweet and crunchy and good, and it was making his mind go all kinds of fuzzy around the edges._

_“Who killed him?”_

_Good job, McGeek. Finally to the point of the matter. Good thing too, he was running out of apple slices._

_She was answering, and that was good. McGee’d had a lot of questions. He hadn’t even caught all of them. Some of them had been stupid questions. Questions that hadn’t been meant to be questions at all, just common turns of phrase that McGee hadn’t had trained out of him._

_Tsk, tsk, little probie. Good little wizards know how to treat with the fey._

_They had better, at least._

_He hoped McGee had gotten the answers he needed. His head was swirling. Drooping._

_He couldn’t possibly eat another bite._

 

Tony reared back. Oberon couldn’t be calling _him._

“He sees you,” his mother said. Her voice was oddly distorted by the water. “You’ve eaten our fruit and drunk our water. He sees you now like never before. He calls you.”

A muffled impression of sound battered his senses. Someone else had been calling.

His mother’s fingernails were digging towards his heart. “You belong to him, pup. Go to him. What else do you have?”

 _I have a pack,_ he protested, still not daring to open his mouth. 

His mother sneered. “And when they die as your banshee died? When your Gibbs abandons you?”

_Not gonna happen._

“All mortals die. Would you die as one of them?” his mother demanded.

No. Not his mother.

“Better than being Oberon's lapdog,” he spat. If saying that got him killed, so be it.

The words hung muffled in the water before the phantom of his mother disappeared, and water rushed into his mouth. It was colder than anything he’d touched before, and his whole body was shaking, shaking to pieces -

A strong arm latched around him and started towing him to the surface. The closer they got, the clearer the words became.

_Don’t you dare give up, DiNozzo. You don’t have permission to die yet. Hang on, Tony, hang on -_

 

_“Come on, DiNozzo, it's safe now.”_

_Tony’s eyes drifted open. He was in a hospital room._

_“Guess I’m sleeping beauty now,” he croaked. Or maybe Snow White. She'd been the one with the apples, after all._

_The lines around Gibbs' eyes eased. “You alright there, DiNozzo?”_

_“Been better,” he admitted. “We get the killer?” First question probably should have been how long he'd been out, but he had a feeling he'd be going back under soon. That question could wait until after he'd woken up a second time._

_Gibbs settled back in his chair. “Didn’t have to. Jenny already had. Along with about a dozen other people.”_

_“Ah.” He rubbed his aching head. “We get Jenny?” That nickname was going to get awkward, since she shared it with the director._

_“Yep.”_

_Tony frowned. “McGee couldn’t have done it. He was still a guest.”_

_Gibbs raised an eyebrow, “So, he got you out of there and called me.”_

_“Oh.” His eyes widened. “You took on a full fey?”_

_“You doubting me, DiNozzo?”_

_He shook his head rapidly, ignoring the headache. “Nope. Absolutely not.”_

_“Good.”_

_Tony noted the dark circles under Gibbs’ eyes and frowned. “Have you been here ever since, Boss? That can’t be good for you.”_

_“Go back to sleep, DiNozzo.”_

_Not a proper answer. That meant yes. He fought back a grin. “On it, Boss.” He settled back under the covers and thought of a voice calling him back to the surface. “Thanks, Boss.”_

_He was pretty sure it was just the dreams talking when he heard a quiet, “Any time, Tony.”_


End file.
